Down In Flames
by CatatonicVanity
Summary: Blood and gasoline bathed the dirty bedsheets. The bound male struggled and cried out for his past lover to stop, but insanity is a powerful thing... Rated M, Rewritten


**Disclaimer: **I don't own DN, its characters or anything mentioned hereafter.

**Warning**: Blood play, dark themes, violence, character death. _**READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!**_

Mello rolled over and yawned, stretching and arching his back. A clap of thunder about made him jump out of his skin, startling him into sitting up and kicking the blanket away. He stood and ambled to the window, pressing his hand against the chilled glass. Rain poured from the blackened sky, sheet rain that limited the blonde's visibility. Wind whipped about wildly, throwing the fake palm trees about.

Another clap of thunder shook through the air, followed by a burst of lightening that revealed the flooded street below. Mello scoffed and let his black out curtains fall back across the window. He grabbed his phone and hit his speed dial, holding it to his ear. When a groggy, drug ridden voice answered, Mello sighed.

"Rod, I ain't goin' in today," he barked. Rod laughed.

"S'okay, me either," he replied, followed by an airy giggle.

"Roooodddd," a female voice whined. The man laughed and said he had to go before the line went dead. Mello rolled his eyes and dropped his phone, looking to his alarm clock that he never bothered to set. The flickering red lights informed him that it was 7:27 am. He sighed and left his room, goose bumps breaking out across his bare body at the rush of cold air that met him. He shivered and strode through his small apartment, grabbing a chocolate bar out of the refrigerator and made his way back to his room over Thai fast food containers.

When he got to his room he slipped inside and listened to the wind howl while he sucked on the corner of his chocolate bar. He looked at his queen sized bed and lamented that his redhead wasn't there with him to keep him warm. Though Mello was sure that if he asked, Matt would be there in an instant to grant him companionship.

No. Mello shook his head to banish the thought. He knew the moment he set foot out of Wammy's that his only option was underground resources and that was dangerous. Too dangerous for his Matty.

Mello sighed as he crawled back into the bed, wishing that a pair of hot, calloused hands were caressing him instead of the cold cotton sheets. But he couldn't call Matt. He wouldn't.

He sighed and brought the blankets up around his shoulders, opting to sleep the day away. He could afford a day off.

...

_Mello was atop a building, moving without his permission. It was dark and stormy; much like in reality, except Mello could see someone. A tall, lanky figure was sauntering along like the rain wasn't pounding his too thin frame into exhaustion. Again, without his mind's permission, he launched himself off of the building he was perching on. The ground rushed to him, water gushing about below spelling out his demise. But the combat boots that adorned his feet connected harshly, dropping him to a kneel that didn't hurt. _

_Mello straightened and stood, looking around for the figure. He found it walking away from him with practiced ease and felt a sudden spike of urgency run through him. He took off running and when he finally caught up with the figure, he tried to speak. _

"_Hello?" There was no response of any sort, no indication that whoever it was had heard him. He kept up the pace of the man, asking the occasional question. After the second sound, he gave up talking to the figure, no longer hoping for a response. He leapt in front of the man and walked backwards, trying to make out the features of the man he was unwillingly following. _

_A crack of lightening illuminated his surrounding, lighting up the features of his dream ghost. Mello wasn't sure what he expected, but he didn't expect a sopping and haggard looking Matt to be striding down the street. _

_A gasp was torn from his throat at the sight. Mello's eyes widened at the sharp features of his lover, the pale skin that was now pale and dripping. The deep auburn of his hair was darkened to nearly black and plastered to his forehead, and his goggles were slung around his neck and full of rainwater. Another flash of lightening revealed the deep, moss green. Black circles of no sleep marked his beautiful face, lined in thin white scars that were just too perfect to be accidental. _

_Suddenly he didn't have to walk with Matt anymore, as his knees locked up in the cold and he simply watched Matt walk away. _

Mello woke in a cold sweat, sitting upright... almost. Ropes wound around his wrists and yanked him harshly back down.

"What the...?" he mumbled, looking up at his wrists. He was tied to the headboard. He tried moving his legs, only to find that his ankles were tied down to. "What the hell is going on?" he shouted to the eerily quiet room. A deep, evil chuckle rang throughout the room before the light flickered on. Mello gasped at the sight of his fiery haired lover, sopping in the middle of the room. A puddle of rainwater fell around him and his goggles hung around his neck.

"Hello Mihael. It's been far too long," Matt said, a manic grin spreading across his lips. For a second his face looked in some danger of tearing, until the grin slipped and was replaced by blankness. Matt dropped the hand he was holding behind his back to reveal several more lengths of rope.

"Matt... This isn't fucking funny!" Mello barked, yanking at his restraints. Matt laughed darkly and without mirth.

"No, it isn't. But it is fun..." The redhead slowly approached the blonde on the bed. Mello thrashed against his bindings, only to have the rope around his left ankle tightened. He gasped at the rope burn and the sudden loss of blood flow. The same happened to his right leg, drawing a small whine from Mello. Matt crawled up the blonde's body, securing his torso to the bed with a rope around his hips.

"Matt... What are you doing?" Mello choked, trying to shake away from the redhead's searching hands. He was unsuccessful, and his wrists were tied tightly to the headboard. Matt sat back, straddling the blonde and drawing a stilleto knife. He grinned and began slicing the blonde's pristine skin to shreds, smearing the blood that bubbled up from the wounds. Straight lines marred the body, crisscrossing wildly but in perfectionist style of an artist.

Then he moved on to Mello's legs, drawing three straight lines down his bare thighs, deeper than the cuts on his chest. The same treatment was administered to his other leg and his knees were carved up until the bones of his kneecaps were showing. Mello keened out a desperate whine of pain but avoided moving any more.

Then Matt sat on his knees beside Mello and held his chin in his hand, forcing the blonde to still. He slid the knife along Mello's cheeks, cutting shallow lines into the soft flesh. Mello let his tears fall freely, giving the occasional pained cry when the salty water hit the wounds. Then a wicked smile lit Matt's face, even though a steady stream of tears were cascading down his cheeks.

"Now, Mihael, I'm going to make sure to hurt you as badly as you hurt me when you left. And when I was on my knees in front of you and begging you not to go, you just left. You don't know how much that hurt... But you will now."

Matt pulled out a gas can, dipping his hands into the fluid. He ran his dripping hands over Mello's torso and legs, eliciting screams from Mello. The blonde writhed and thrashed as much as his bindings would allow, begging the redhead to stop. Matt only cackled and kept going.

When the bed sheets and Mello's body were covered in the flammable liquid, Matt poured the rest over himself. He sliced both of his wrists and lay down in the bed next to Mello, curling up next to his lover. He extracted a Zippo lighter and opened it, fingering the mechanism.

"I love you Mihael. I hate what you did, but I love you. So I'll go down in flames with you."


End file.
